


If You're Feeling Down

by Telesilla



Series: Take a Chance on Me [3]
Category: Baseball RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Baseball, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Frottage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-17
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-16 01:09:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1326061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Telesilla/pseuds/Telesilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"You wanna come by my place tonight?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You trying to make up for this shitty game?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"No, I'm hoping to get laid."</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You're Feeling Down

**Author's Note:**

> It seems like every time I write a new part of Kingdom Come, I have to write happy Buster/Bum fluff. God, it's hard being me.

_August 7, 2013_  
 _vs Brewers @ AT &T Park_  
 _L 6-1_  
  
  
  
Buster stays away and doesn't try to stop Madison when he throws his glove down the tunnel, swearing all the while. It's not Buster's style at all, but Madison losing it might be a good thing--might shock everyone into paying attention. Then again, he's always been a hothead, so maybe everyone will think it's just Bum being Bum.

"Hey," he says, when Madison slams down next to him on the dugout bench.

"What?" 

Buster glances around without looking like he's glancing around. Not that it matters, everyone is down at the other end of the dugout, and Belt, who usually tries to deal with Madison's moods by joking around, is in on deck.

"You wanna come by my place tonight?"

"You trying to make up for this shitty game?"

"No, I'm hoping to get laid." Buster shrugs a little. "And maybe help you forget this shitty game."

Madison sighs and his shoulders slump a little. Buster's been wrangling him for years now; he knows Madison is getting annoyed with himself for losing his temper. 

"Yeah, okay."

"Good. Now get your ass out there and do your fucking job. Focus on pitching, will ya?"

It's not how Buster would talk to Tim, who digs in and ignores Buster's signs when Buster barks at him. Cain and Vogey don't need to be lectured; mostly Buster talks to them about pitch location. Buster's not sure what would happen if he talked to Zito like this; it'd probably roll right off Zito's back. Madison, on the other hand, will get fired up in just the right way.

"Long as the fucking defense does...."

"Fuck the defense; they're not your problem. Just get the next fucking batter out."

Madison gets the next batter out and the one after that, but when it all falls apart in the eighth, Buster can see him getting worked up again. It comes as no surprise when Madison reaches up and pounds the top of the dugout after Boch takes the ball from him. Great, Buster thinks. That'll make into the broadcast; there's no way the CSN director's going to let that moment go by undocumented. 

After the game, the mood in the clubhouse is chilly; everyone's retreated into their various cliques. Buster sighs; that's been happening more and more lately. When things are good, people mingle a d joke around a little more. 

The press doesn't want to talk to Buster; he ducks out while Madison's dealing with them. It doesn't keep him from fretting about the game and the team all the way back to his place in Noe Valley. Some nights he turns on KNBR, but he knows better than that tonight. It's not like he doesn't know what the callers will be saying. Pablo's too fat, and it's time to sit Belt and play Pill because Belt's gonna regress any minute now, and why did the trading deadline pass without the Giants making a blockbuster deal? Above and beyond the usual chatter and bitching will be endless discussions about Madison's temper and how it's totally justified because Pablo's fat and lazy. Also, it's all Belt's fault somehow.

Buster honestly appreciates the fans, but sometimes they drive him nuts.

It's another half hour before Madison shows up. 

"I hate your fucking neighborhood; it's impossible to find a place to park."

"I'll see if I can buy a spot for you in the garage up the street," Buster says, his voice mild.

He looks at Madison and there's that half-hangdog, half-stubborn expression he saw earlier. "Oh God, you went off on the press, didn't you?"

"Um, yeah." Madison rubs the back of his neck. "It's just...look, I'm serious, Buster. I'm sick of you n me being the only ones who show up for games."

"Yeah," Buster says and now he's getting a little annoyed himself. "Because Pence is out there in right picking his nose and Belt hasn't been busting his ass since Philly and Scoots isn't playing hurt. To name a few."

"Yeah, okay...." Bum trails off and looks at Buster. "You know something? You're trying too hard to be fair right now. You agree with me, don't you?"

It's Buster's turn to look a little sheepish. "Yeah, kinda. Admit it, though; it's not like Pablo to not give a hundred percent. It's not like this team to not show up, but some days...." He sighs. "I just don't know what's wrong."

It's another sign of how well they know each other when Madison moves in close and puts his arms around Buster's waist. "Don't fucking start with that. None of this is your fault."

Buster knows that, but he can't help feeling that there has to be an answer. He's not going to find it tonight though, so he takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. "I'm sorry today sucked for you." He reaches around and runs his hands over Madison's ass, before leaning up for a kiss. They're both hard and panting a little by the time they pull away from each other.

"Will fooling around help or do you want a beer or some Jack."

"No reason we can't do both but maybe we could fool around before the Jack."

They're still new to each other, but Buster's pretty sure he'd feel this same sense of urgency if they'd been together for years. He leaves his shirt at the foot of the stairs and Madison's gets dropped in the hall just outside the bedroom. As much as Buster wants to get naked though, he pauses to look at Madison as soon as Madison reaches for his belt buckle.

"What is it about me in jeans?" 

"You're really fucking hot like that." Buster looks Madison over again, slower this time. "And you know damn well it turns me on."

Madison hooks his thumb in the waistband of his jeans and cocks a hip. "Come and get it, baby."

Rolling his eyes, Buster walks up to Madison. "You're a lot hotter when you're not talking," he says. Before Madison can reply, Buster kisses him, biting and tugging at Madison's lower lip with his teeth.

"There's better ways to shut me up," Madison says when Buster finally lets up.

It's not always easy to keep himself from correcting Madison's grammar, but one look at Madison's red lower lip does it tonight. "Yeah?" Buster pauses and kisses Madison, biting his lip again because...why not? "Like you blowing me?"

"Yeah, that'd do it." 

Buster strips and then shoves the pile of jeans and shirts off the big easy chair in the corner. "Why are you such a slob?" Madison asks as he sits on the bed and pulls his boots off. 

"You gonna come suck my dick or ask stupid questions?" 

Madison just grins at him and Buster feels that little twist in his chest. He's been feeling it a lot more lately, and he knows that, at some point, he's gonna have to say something. Let Madison know that this is more than Buster just thinking he's hot. Although, wow, he thinks as Madison thumps to his knees in front of Buster. "Goddamn, Maddy...." he says.

With another wide grin, Madison reaches for Buster's fly. "I should stay down here and ask you stupid questions."

Buster leans forward and slides his fingers into Madison's shaggy hair. He tugs a little and, yeah, that's better; Madison gets Buster zipper down and his pants out of the way in no time. His eyes go a little wide when he sees that Buster isn't wearing anything under his jeans. "Speaking of hot, you're a pervert," he says. Then, before Buster can say anything, Madison leans in and slides his mouth down Buster's dick, nice and slow and easy.

They've been doing this for less than a month, but Madison's turned out to be a quick learner. He figured it out fast because he had _fantasies_ about giving Buster head and fuck, that's hot.

He tugs harder at Madison's hair, but not enough to hurt. It is enough to get Madison to speed up, though; he moans around Buster's cock and sucks harder. "Fuck...so fucking good." And it is good, really really good. Because of the schedule, it's been a few days since they were last together and as much as Buster wants to hold off and make it last, it's not gonna happen. 

"Maddy," he gasps out after another couple of minutes. "Gonna...gonna...."

"Mmmmm," Madison hums. When he hums again, it's too much. Buster shudders hard and gives it up. 

"Fuck," he gasps, as Madison finally pulls off. "You're fucking...Jesus, you're incredible."

Madison grins up at him. "Yeah?" He leans forward and nuzzles the inside of Buster's thigh, rubbing his beard over the sensitive skin. When Buster squirms and tries not to laugh, Madison laughs. "And you're ticklish."

"Cut it out, asshole." Buster pushes at Madison's shoulder.

"What's in it for me?"

"I don't...fuck, stop it!" Buster bites back a giggle--a fucking giggle. "Can't tell you if you don't...Bum, quit."

"You're so cute," Madison says, sitting back on his heels. 

"Fuck. You." In spite of his words, Buster grins down at Madison. He hates being tickled, but Madison looks a lot happier than he did earlier, so all in all it's a win. Of course, Buster thinks he can get Madison to feel even better.

Buster slides off the chair to kneel in front of Madison. "Those jeans must be getting a little tight," he says after a kiss.

"Yeah," Madison grabs Buster's hand and presses it again the bulge of his dick. "You gonna do something about that?"

"Last month in New York, you said there was something you wanted to do...."

"I said there was a lotta things...." Madison pauses and glares at Buster as Buster opens his mouth. "Don't even start in on my fucking grammar."

"I wasn't going to," Buster says, although he totally was. He rubs Madison's fly as a distraction. "You wanna put this in between my thighs?"

"Oh, fuck yeah."

They haven't actually fucked yet. Madison's still a little hesitant and for all that Buster really wants to get fucked, he doesn't want to push Madison past his comfort level. But apparently Madison's okay with this. 

It's nice, Buster thinks a few minutes later as Madison rubs massage oil onto Buster's thighs. Madison's using enough pressure that it doesn't tickle; in fact, it's almost relaxing. "You've got the best hands."

"Dunno about that," Madison says. "I only throw the ball; you catch it."

"No really, you could have a second career as a massage therapist." 

"As long as I get to do this kinda thing." Madison bends down and bites Buster's ass. 

"Only if I'm your only client." 

Buster's just joking, but Madison pauses and puts a hand on the small of Buster's back. "No one but you," he says. 

Before Buster can answer, Madison rests his hands on Buster's thighs and pushes them together. "Tell me if I'm too heavy."

"I will," Buster says, but he's still thinking about what Madison said and how serious he sounded. As Madison lies down on top of him, he feels that feeling in his chest again. He smiles into the pillow.

It feels a little weird when Madison slowly presses his dick between Buster's thighs. Weird, but nice. Buster's still relaxed after coming so hard earlier and now all he has to do is lie here. Far from being too heavy, Madison's weight feels good pressing against him.

"Mmmmm, that's good," Madison says as his his begin to move. 

"Huh," Buster says, pressing his thighs closer together. "Kinda cool from this side."

"Yeah?" Madison kisses the back of Buster's neck and starts moving a little faster.

"Yeah. You can go harder. Faster too, if you want to. Not gonna hurt me."

He doesn't know if that's why Madison's worried about fucking him, but when Madison picks up the pace, Buster's pretty sure he guessed right. 

"Fuck," Madison groans. "Feels...fuck, Buster." His dick's sliding between Buster's thighs hard and fast now and it's actually kind of a turn on. Not the feel of it, although that's okay, but the way that Madison's so into it. His breath's hot on the back of Buster's neck and he's muttering Buster's name. 

"C'mon," Buster says, twisting a little so he reach back. He presses a hand to Madison's shoulder. "Its good; t's okay. I like it, you on me like this."

"Jesus fucking Christ." Madison's voice is hoarse and he's really moving hard now, each hard thrust shoving Buster into the mattress. "Fuck...close...gonna...."

"C'mon, Maddy," Buster says. He squirms a little, moving down until Madison's dick is right up against his ass. "Remember what you said? How you'd come all over my balls? Do it, okay?"

"So...fucking...filthy...." Madison gives one last hard shove and then he's coming--a damp rush of heat all over Buster's ass, thighs and balls. 

Buster's never had anyone come on him before. He likes seeing it in porn, but he always thought it would be weird and maybe a little gross in real life. It's not though. Wet and kind of messy, yeah, but he's okay with a little mess. He's even more okay with Madison pressing him into the bed; it's close in more ways than one.

"God, Buster," Madison says, still panting hard. "You're so fucking hot."

"And filthy, in more ways than one," Buster says with a chuckle. "And don't be sorry; I liked it."

"Good." Madison pauses to kiss the back of Buster's neck. "Because your fucking thighs...damn."

"Yeah, you're kind of a leg man."

"Nah," Madison says. "I'm more of a Buster man." As soon as he says it, Buster can feel him tense up. "Oh fuck." He moves off Buster to lie next to him, face buried in the pillow.

"Yeah? I'm a Madison kinda guy myself." Buster reaches out and runs a hand down Madison's back. "Been that way for a while."

"Don't have to say that just because I...."

"Hey," Buster says. "Look at me." When Madison rolls over, Buster looks right into his eyes. "I'm not bullshitting you here, okay?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Reaching out, Buster runs his fingers through Madison's hair. "I've been into you for a long time, but now...look, I'm trying to say I love you, okay?" 

It's only when Madison finally relaxes that Buster can see how tense he was. He turns his head and kisses Buster's palm. "I don't even know when," he says. "It wasn't one single moment or anything like that. It's just you, ya know?" He rolls his eyes. "So yeah, what you said. I'm tryin' to say I love you too."

There's no way Buster can hide his big happy grin, so he doesn't even bother to try. "Then c'mon over here and kiss me."

Later, after they've washed up and changed the sheets, they head into the kitchen.

"See," Buster says, waving his hand around. His kitchen's not all that modern, but it's clean. "I'm not a total slob."

"Yeah you are. Kitchen just looks good because you have a cleaning lady." Madison stares at the inside of the fridge. "Veggies, meat, veggies, fruit and oh, hey, more veggies. You got any unhealthy stuff in here?"

"Um," Buster says, rubbing the back of his neck. "Kinda?"

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing to go with the Jack," Buster says. "But I've got some bananas and there's some Cool Whip buried back behind the broccoli."

"You better have Nilla Wafers and a box of pudding too, because I love that shit."

"Yeah?"

"Hell yeah. I'm from the fucking South, ain't I?"

"Now you're just doing that to bug me." Buster leans over to punch Madison's arm. "And yeah, there's some pudding and cookies in the cupboard."

"Cool. Let's order a pizza."

Buster knows he shouldn't, not if he's going to make banana pudding too, but fuck it. "Here," he says, digging through a drawer until he finds a menu. "Just don't get a Hawaiian."

"So," Madison says, once he's called in the pizza. "Why this place and not something more modern?" He jumps a little until he's sitting on the counter next to the sink.

"What do you mean?" 

"This old place of yours; what is it, like a hundred years old or something? Why not something newer? Near the park or out in the East Bay?"

"Just a little over a hundred," Buster says, stalling a little as he fusses with the pudding and the milk. "It was built around 1910."

"Cool, but you didn't answer my question. I'd kinda expect maybe Pence would have something funky like this, or maybe Timmy."

"Timmy's place is a lot more modern."

"I know that." 

Buster doesn't answer until he's tossing the mixer's beaters into the sink.

"It's like this," he says as he checks over his bananas. "Like the banana pudding."

"Huh?"

"My Nana had an old farmhouse," he says. "Maybe an hour or so from town. She didn't own much of the land any more, but even though Dad wanted her to get a newer place, she wouldn't go. Every time I came back from a visit, I thought our house was boring." He shrugs a little. 

"Back after I signed the extension and my real estate agent was showing me around, we passed this place. She wanted me to see a condo up around here somewhere, but I saw the sign and...." He shrugs again, knowing he's not making much sense. "It's not that much like Nana's place, but it's got, I dunno, character or charm or whatever."

"Your Nana used to make pudding for you?"

"Yeah. One time, I snuck downstairs in the middle of the night and ate it until I got sick, but I never stopped liking it." 

"Really? 'Cause I still can't eat orange sherbet." Madison watches Buster put the pudding together. "I get it, I think," he says after a moment.

"Yeah?"

"Hard to think you're putting down roots when you're in a condo or a whatchamacallit--one of those McMansion things like Cainer bought."

Buster turns away from the fridge and nudges Madison's knees apart a little. Settling in between Madison's legs, he wraps his arms around Madison's waist. "Yeah. It's not like Georgia at all, but it's not the same kind of place I could live if I played somewhere else."

"You want to retire here, don't you? See a big 28 up on the wall at the yard?"

"Well, I wanna retire here." Buster leans in and rests his head against Madison's chest. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled against the worn flannel of Madison's shirt. "Wouldn't mind seeing a number 40 up on the wall someday."

"You're a big ol' softy; ya know that, right?"

"You tell anyone else and I'll kill you."

"Like you could." Madison snorts--a ridiculous sound Buster feels more than hears. "C'mon," he says after a moment. "You promised me some Jack."

Buster's finished his half the pizza and his second glass when he turns to Madison. "Feeling a little better?" he asks.

"Yeah and no." Madison drains his own glass and splashes a couple fingers of whiskey into both their glasses. "Better about today, but, we're not gonna make it, are we?"

Buster wants to say something positive, but instead, he shakes his head. "Not this year. Too many little things adding up."

"Nibbled to death by ducks." 

"Pretty much." Buster turns and looks at Madison. "I don't know what to do, what to say. It's not like Cincinnati, you know? I keep trying to think of something and it's not there. I'm so fucking frustrated but I just...I just don't know what to do."

"There's no fucking magic bullet." Madison slides his arm around Buster's shoulders. "And you can't fix everything."

"I know, but...." 

"How drunk do I have to get you before you quit that?"

Buster looks at the glass in his hand. "That's not the way to...."

"Buster? I love you, but sometimes you drive me fucking crazy. Two minutes ago you were asking if I felt any better. Yes, I do, but that don't mean you have to pick up the slack."

"That doesn't mean," Buster says before he can stop himself. "You did that on purpose."

"Damn right. Now finish your drink, have some pudding and chill the fuck out."

"Fit some making out into the plan and you've got yourself a deal."

Madison smiles at him. "Yeah, I think we could do that." He sets his glass down and then does the same with Buster's. "Like maybe right now."

How did I get this lucky, Buster wonders as Madison leans in and kisses him. Then, Madison's biting his lip and Buster sighs happily. If Madison can let go of today, then yeah, Buster can too.

_-end-_


End file.
